AMERICA’S Society of Classical Poets has released its poem celebrating the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th President of the USA on Friday.

The poem by award-winning poet Joseph Charles McKenzie was published without comment by The Scotsman and has since started to go viral.

In the poem, McKenzie – the first and last American winner of the Scottish International Poetry Competition, according to the organisation’s website – refers to outgoing President Barack Obama as a “tyrant” and lauds Trump’s Scottish ancestry, his mother being Mary Anne MacLeod of Lewis, and also makes Trump out to be some sort of latter-day Scottish hero.

The National revealed last year how Trump’s mother was a poor immigrant to the USA who did not meet his father on a holiday in Manhattan but actually while she was in domestic service in Queens, New York.

The President-elect once visited Lewis and spent 93 seconds in the house (pictured) that stands where his mother’s croft once stood and which is still owned by the MacLeod family.

Our resident historian Hamish MacPherson has therefore penned these words in reply to McKenzie, adopting his McGonagallesque style ...

Cry down for the Domhnall, brave folk say this loud,

The outcast of Torquil, the man’s no MacLeod,

Bawbees in her pocket, his mam fled the Isles,

Embarked on a journey of 3,000 miles,

To the land of the free and the brave and the proud,

Where she spawned the young Domhnall, but he’s no’ a MacLeod!

-

Now freedom is threatened, he’s building a wall,

A racist misogynist, this man hates them all,

The Domhnall’s no leader, his word is post true,

Telling lies and sick tweeting is all he can do,

Once havoc he’s wreaked comes a cry from the crowd,

Who elected this Domhnall that’s no’ a Macleod!

-

Now fear, hate and anger’s corrupted this nation,

Created division in the mass population,

Along came the Domhnall, the man who’s to blame,

“That’s all just fake news,” he said to his shame.

Yet the protests are genuine, heard long and loud,

This man’s not my President, and he’s no’ a MacLeod.

-

Establishment order spoke too loud and long,

But not all they said was so rotten and wrong.

Along came the Domnhall, “hey I’ll change all that,

“I’ll tell lies to the electors, I’ll talk out of my hat.”

In speech after speech he has whipped up a crowd,

Who’ve been conned by this Domhnall that’s no’ a MacLeod!

-

He’s lied to the black man, the sick and the lame,

The poor and the homeless all conned by his game.

Soldiers once captured were trashed, some by name,

He even lambasted war hero McCain.

Now veterans and families have all joined the crowd,

“We’re all patriotic and you’re no a MacLeod!”

-

For centuries women have fought to defend,

Their right to be seen as the equal to men,

But the Domnhall just thinks they’re there for a grope,

With him in the White House, women don’t have a hope,

His locker room banter does not do him proud,

A disgrace to high office, and he’s no’ a MacLeod!

-

There’s no doubt that his children are bonny and fair,

As was his late mother, (he’s copied her hair),

Yet he fails to pay due to the late Mary Anne,

The National’s proved that he fibs re his mam.

We’ve been trolled, we’ve been hated but we’ll no’ be cowed,

We say to you Domhnall, that you’re no’ a MacLeod.

-

Dear American poet, please give us a break,

If you think history lessons from you we should take,

Domnhall’s forebears in Scotland were steadfast and brave,

And the name of MacLeod is too good for this knave.

Every man, every woman we’ll stand and say loud,    

This message to Domnhnall, you’re no’ a MacLeod! 

-

The Domhnall got lucky, his mammy made good,

She traded her croft for a posh neighbourhood,

Where she married to money, became a Trump wife,

Guaranteeing the Domnhall a privileged life,

He ripped off the small people and they are avowed,

We’ll never get justice - and he’s no’ a Macleod!

-

A friend of all migrants as long as they’re “best”.

If they’re not up to scratch he’s deporting the rest,

A true xenophobic, he promotes as the norm,

That all others are hellish and out to do harm,

But the voice of the immigrant grows ever loud,

It’s our home, Domhnall, and you’re no’ a MacLeod!